Do ask, do tell
by Mooncat99
Summary: After a string of bad cases, Tony's walls finally crash and he's got to deal with a bunch of ghosts from his past. Gibbs is there to help him through it. No slash!
1. Build Up

Title: Do ask, do tell

Author: Mooncatff

Rating: T

Summary: After a string of bad cases, Tony's walls finally crash and he's got to deal with a bunch of ghosts from his past. Gibbs is there to help him through it. No slash!

Warnings: Language, deals with domestic and child abuse and overall there's a lot of guilt and bashing involved.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS.

Author's note: This takes place shortly after 8-15, main focus though is on issues resulting from 8-12 and 8-13, and also 8-14 a bit. Seeing those episodes all in one afternoon, I realized how hard they must have been for Tony to take. One of them would have been devastating enough, but taking them all three one after another? And as I've wanted to do a story that deals with his childhood (yeah, I know, yet _another_ one!), I finally found my perfect opening. So enjoy the ride. As always, please keep in mind that English is not my mother tongue, so be kind. And in that sense, a big thank you to scousemuz1k for doing fantastic beta work and guaranteeing that the read for you is smooth and undisturbed by mistakes on my part.

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**Do ask, do tell**

Chapter 1 - Build up

Looking over his bullpen, Gibbs frowned at the absence of his Senior Field Agent. He had just finished his debriefing with Vance and SecNav on the whole Belgravia-mess, then had another long and tiring conversation about DiNozzo and McGee's FUBAR protection detail on Gorgova's daughter. Despite Adriana orchestrating her own abduction, setting his agents up, Vance wanted the incident to at least go into their files. And while Gibbs was the first to agree that mistakes had been made by his agents, he didn't think they deserved anything so drastic.

Though to be honest, if it had been just McGee, maybe Gibbs wouldn't have fought as hard to keep it from happening. His Junior Agent _had_ messed up. It was good for him to have at least owned up to it, albeit only after Tony had already tried to take full responsibility for what had happened. Still, he had screwed up, and not just a bit – and ultimately, with the way his Junior Agent had behaved himself lately, Gibbs thought a reprimand would actually do him good, get him back down to Earth and on his feet, reminding him that he wasn't perfect. As it was, the whole mess seemed to have done that job just fine. Especially seeing how fast he had gone from being Vance's prime pet agent to hearing his highly esteemed director demand his resignation.

But it hadn't been just McGee and no way in hell would he let Vance add yet another remark to DiNozzo's file. Because, though he doubted his SFA shared his opinion on the subject, DiNozzo hadn't much to feel guilty about.

Truth was, as he had told McGee back at the scene, the only one responsible for this mess was him. First, he should have never taken on this case. The team was exhausted, to the point where even DiNozzo had subtly urged Gibbs to give them some downtime. But he hadn't listened, as usual. Second, he should have dampened McGee's fast developing ego and over-confident self-assurance a long time ago. Third, he shouldn't have switched up the protection detail teams and kept DiNozzo teamed up with him, not with McGee. His SFA wasn't on top of his game, hadn't been since that damn don't ask don't tell case. That was why he had teamed up with Tony in the first place, to keep an eye on him and be there to take the fall back, if what occupied his mind lately were to distract him too much. Hell, he should have just talked with Tony right away, not waiting to see if his SFA would pull himself together on his own. And last, when he noticed McGee's blossoming interest in Adriana and Ziva's encouragement of such an inappropriate liaison, he should have talked with both of them instead of teaming Tony up with McGee so he could keep the Junior Agent in check. So yeah, in the end, he was the one at fault here and if the Director insisted on marring anyone's record, it should be his.

In the end, Vance agreed to leave their files alone; he had insisted though that they should both be benched for a week. Again Gibbs had growled and bitched before giving in, only for show though this time. Truth was, he was relieved by that decision. Their last few cases had been hell for all of them, especially Tony, and he had already intended to finally demand a much needed leave for his team. This way though was better, they wouldn't have to sacrifice personal days, they could catch up a bit on the mountain of paperwork that had accumulated over the past weeks and most of all, he could keep an eye on all of them, particularly DiNozzo. If they still needed leave after the slow week, Gibbs would demand it.

Walking into their bullpen, Gibbs stopped between all of their desks. "McGee, you and DiNozzo are benched for a week." He watched his Junior Agent frown and stare, downcast, at his keyboard, nodding tightly. "Which means we're all on desk duty and cold cases for the next week. You better keep delivering my coffee, McGee, or I may have to schedule in a few special lessons in the gym."

McGee gulped. "Got it, Boss."

He narrowed his eyes at Tony's vacant desk. "Where's DiNozzo?"

The Junior Agent looked over at Tony's desk. "I don't know, Boss. He was here only a moment ago."

Gibbs turned his glare back to him. "He's suffering from a concussion and you let him out of your sight? Ya think that's an adequate job of having your partner's back?"

McGee paled. "Tony's got a concussion? He said it was just a scratch."

"McGee, how long you've been with the team now?" Gibbs asked exasperated, wishing he'd made a coffee run before coming back to the bullpen to deal with the idiots that were his agents.

"Uh, seven years, Boss," McGee answered hesitantly, watching him warily.

"And in those seven years, when did DiNozzo ever tell you the true extent of his injuries? He bumped his head, was bleeding and had been unconscious for several minutes according to your report so how can you believe for even a second that all he suffered was a scratch?" Gibbs growled. Letting McGee stew over his words he turned to his Probationary Agent. "You have something better to say, David?"

"Tony left his desk eighteen minutes ago, taking his gym bag with him, leaving his other stuff. I think it is safe to assume he is in the gym, vending," Ziva replied, unfazed by his growling. Tim piped up, correcting her, which she ignored as well. "He was a bit pale, but his eyes were focused, there was no sign of dizziness and he hasn't rubbed his temples as often as in the hours after the accident. I believe he is fine enough to be left alone."

Gibbs wasn't surprised by her very thorough observation of her partner's actions and condition. It was one thing he could almost always count on her for. Sometimes, she even overdid it. Problem was, while she usually kept a vigilant eye on her partner's health, she often failed to have the same awareness of his emotional state. Actually, until a while back, McGee had been better at that, though he too often let himself be blinded by DiNozzo's masks and well oiled distraction techniques. Lately though he seemed to have forgotten that despite all of Tony's efforts to seem like nothing hurt him, he did have feelings that could be not only hurt, but crushed.

The last few cases had held many blows for Tony, but neither McGee nor Ziva seemed to have noticed it. And no matter how good DiNozzo was at hiding his emotions and pain, Gibbs expected better than that from his junior agents. They _knew_ Tony's past, maybe not the details, but surely enough to know that it was far from being perfect. Yet, after first having to deal with a case that involved a neglected and at least verbally abused child, then one dealing with domestic violence, _and_ then having not only a shrink but Kate's sister poking at their psyche, they'd now been on a case that involved a daughter going against her powerful and rich father's wishes. Neither of them, however, seemed to have even made the connections, let alone seen how hard every last one of them had to have been for their Senior Field Agent, not to speak of what the combination of them all had done to him and his famous walls.

Suddenly, just looking at his ignorant agents became too much for him, his temper roaring at him to be unleashed. He reined it in, barely. "Pack up, go home," he ordered in a clipped voice that allowed no protests. His agents, knowing that tone well enough, immediately bent down to grab their bags. Gibbs though had already turned away and was strolling towards the elevator.

Rule fourteen: never assume. He'd first check if Ziva's estimation of Tony's whereabouts were correct. If DiNozzo was indeed venting, he'd leave him to it for a while longer. Punching the hell out of a bag helped. It didn't solve anything, but it got rid of the roughest edges. Besides, he was in no mood to have a brawl with his SFA.

While DiNozzo exhausted himself, he'd go see Ducky, hear if he had any advice or insight on how the younger man was really doing and how best to help him through this string of nightmares.

Because there was also the rule that was no rule because it was as natural and obvious as having to keep breathing in order to live: always have your partner's back. Then again, the way his team had acted lately, maybe he had to add it as Rule Zero to the official list.

TBC!

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_Author's Note: Like promised, here my new story. Hope you enjoyed this first chapter. It's more of a teaser, I know, but the next chapter will come soon enough. For once I only posted this one _after _I actually completed it. So this is the first of six chapters. Impressive, if one knows that this was supposed to be a one-shot ... Next Tony will join us in an explosive confrontation with Gibbs, so stay tuned and let me think what you thought of this little build up. _


	2. Confrontation

Chapter 2 - Confrontation

Gibbs leaned against the door, watching his SFA work out. He was focused on his target, his movements efficient and controlled, going through pretty much every sequence there was. He used both hands equally to block and deliver punches, and even worked in a kick here and there. It reminded Gibbs once again how surprisingly good Tony was in hand to hand combat. Most people didn't give him credit, hell, he himself had underestimated DiNozzo, until he had found himself in a deadly neck lock that would have twisted his neck or choked him to death if Tony had been serious. It had been in one of their work-out sessions here in this same gym, not long after they had started to work together. Then too, DiNozzo had been furious, his control slipping after a case that had involved a dead colonel and a ring of snuff films of boys barely old enough to be out of diapers. Gibbs too had had a hard time dealing with this case and a lot of pent-up anger, so it had surprised him even more that Tony had managed to get one over him.

But since that day, Gibbs knew to never underestimate DiNozzo in a fight. Tony usually held back in training, preferring to goof off as always or playing with his opponents, only showing the true extent of his abilities when angered or in a real fight. It had saved his life more than once. Like with Rivkin for example. Tony hadn't won that fight because Rivkin had been drunk. That was just the reason why Vance, Eli David and Mossad could accept that Tony killed the Kidon officer. And Ziva, though here too, Gibbs was disappointed that after all the years she had been with them, Tony being her partner, she hadn't known better. Truth was Tony had won because he really was that good. Because Rivkin _was_ Kidon, Tony had come out of the fight with a broken arm, and because he had been drunk, it was only a broken arm, still, Gibbs would have always put his money on Tony. But like Tony, he was happy to let the others be fooled once again. Who knows, maybe the element of surprise and the mistake of underestimating him would save his life again, one day.

Sweat was running down Tony's body, but despite being at it for almost an hour now, he showed no signs of exhaustion. Gibbs frowned. It was another sign of just how much Tony had internalized lately, instead of letting it out. His SFA had some alarming traits, but none infuriated and worried Gibbs as much as that habit of Tony's. He knew that the man who was mostly responsible for that was not Tony himself but his scumbag of a father; still, after all the years, Tony apparently hadn't learned that he could trust his friends with his true emotions. Trust him. That the last thing Gibbs wanted was Tony dealing with his demons on his own instead of coming to him, letting him help the young man to get through this.

True, Gibbs perhaps wasn't all that open and intuitive himself, but things between him and DiNozzo were different. They were perhaps not of the same blood, but they sure were made of the same wood. They seldom needed words to understand each other so why did Tony feel the need to hide himself and his troubled mind from his boss?

Ducky had been as worried about Tony as Gibbs, but had little advice to offer. Apparently he trusted that Gibbs knew what to do and the right words to say to their young friend. Gibbs snorted. He wished he had that same confidence. Dealing with DiNozzo was always an interesting and most often a tiring and unnerving task. What worked once usually didn't work the next time, unless Tony was really out of it. Making him drunk wasn't an option either today, not with his concussion. Actually, not at all since Jenny's death. DiNozzo hated alcoholics with a passion, no wonder with his parents. One of his biggest fears was of ending up like them, and after Jenny's death, he had come the closest he ever had to that fate. It hadn't scared just Tony.

"Checking up on me, Boss, or here to fire my ass?"

Blinking, Gibbs noticed he had spaced out. Tony was still focused on the gym bag he had been pounding the hell out, not looking at him. But of course he had noticed him, probably as soon as he had come through the door. He moved through the room. Tony stopped and looked at him, straight in the eyes, waiting for an answer.

"You're benched for a week," Gibbs told him, watching him closely for a reaction.

As expected, Tony showed no emotions, just wiped sweat from his eyes with the back of his hand. "I've a feeling I owe you a thank you. What was Vance's original plan? Reprimand in my file? Suspension? My Badge?"

Gibbs handed him a towel. "Reprimand."

Tony nodded, unsurprised. "You shouldn't have fought that, Boss. I fucked up, I should get a reprimand. Maybe then people might learn to not put me on protection detail any more. Clearly, I suck at them."

Sighing inwardly, Gibbs gave his exasperating SFA a stern look. "How d'ya figure that?"

Shrugging, Tony used the towel to dry his face and neck. "Come on, don't play dumb, you know damn well that this wasn't the first time I botched a protection detail. I lost Franks, _twice_, got Ducky kidnapped, Jenny killed, participated in what was practically an orgy with Sayif and now I get myself fooled by a college girl. That's a pretty obvious pattern, don't ya think?"

Gibbs crossed his arms and frowned. "Franks clobbered and ditched you, you weren't even on duty when Ducky got kidnapped, Jenny ordered you away, fully knowing what she got herself into, hell, most likely welcoming it. Yeah, you messed up with Sayif, but every one makes a mistake once in a while and you were distracted back then, understandably so. And as for Adriana, you couldn't have known she was involved."

"Doesn't matter. Still shouldn't have left McGee alone with her," Tony just replied, shaking his head, not bothering to comment on the other remarks.

Gibbs gave a small nod. "True. So why did you?"

Tony made a face. "She asked me to go get salads for all of us."

"Since when are you in the habit of following orders from a subject?" Gibbs asked, honestly curious.

Tony looked away and Gibbs knew they'd reached the source of the problem. He waited, making it absolutely clear that he wasn't letting his agent off the hook. Finally, Tony sighed. "I was tired of being treated as if I was invisible or unwanted. So first chance I got to get away from her making gooey eyes at McRomeo, I took it. Stupid, I know, but I figured with her taking a shower and the likelihood of an attack on Adriana generally rather slim, McGee would be fine on his own for a few minutes."

The first part of Tony's admission didn't sit well with Gibbs at all. But for now, he focused on the second part. They weren't ready yet to get into the deep and muddy waters of Tony's issues with his past and self-esteem. "Adriana tricked you. She would have found a way to get kidnapped either way. Yeah, you shouldn't have left McGee alone. You do that again, and _I'll_ have your ass. But what happened wasn't your fault, Tony. When the subject doesn't want to be protected, even wants to be in harm's way, there's nothing any of us can do."

It was true enough, still, he cursed the selfish, stupid girl for choosing to execute her plan while having DiNozzo on her watch. Of course she couldn't have known it, but as Tony had said, he really didn't need another person under his protection to screw him over and slip away from him. For that alone he seethed all over again that she got away so easily. Fuck diplomatic immunity! Where was justice in any of that crap?

"Still doesn't change the fact that I made a grave error in judgement," Tony insisted.

This time Gibbs sighed out loud. He should have known it wouldn't be that easy to get Tony to let go of his unreasonable guilt. Okay, so the hard way it was going to be. "Let's go."

He was about to turn away, but Tony remained rooted to where he was. "I'm not finished yet."

"Yes, you are," Gibbs told him softly, using the tone his SFA knew better than to disobey.

Not this time. "I don't need a babysitter," Tony said softly, the warning in his voice unmistakable though.

"You have a concussion. You know the drill. Now let's go," Gibbs tried to reason, not wanting to fight. He was not leaving without Tony and the boy was coming home with him.

"Yeah, I know it. The twenty-four hours are almost up, so I don't need someone to monitor my concussion, it was only barely a bump to the head anyway. McWorry should never have called the paramedics in the first place. I'm fine and no, you do not need to watch me," Tony reasoned right back.

Gibbs ground his teeth. "You were unconscious. If McGee hadn't called the ambulance already I would have had his badge, after _I_ called 911. Now grab your things, we're going and that, DiNozzo, is an order."

Tony smiled one of those smiles that warned Gibbs that he wasn't going to like his next words. "You said it yourself: we're off for today. So you don't get to order me around, therefore I respectfully decline, I can get myself home just fine."

"Careful, DiNozzo," Gibbs warned softly, narrowing his eyes, trying to keep himself in check.

Problem was, DiNozzo knew him too well and he was apparently hell-bent on a fight, so he pushed, grinning widely. "Nah, careful is no fun. What's the matter, Marine? Getting too old? Too soft? Or simply afraid to be embarrassed when I pin you to the mat again?"

Gibbs moved fast, getting his arm behind DiNozzo's neck and his right foot between his legs, ready to show him who pinned whom to the mat here. But like he'd said: never underestimate DiNozzo. His agent ducked, spun and danced away, having the nerve to chuckle. "That the best you've got? You sure you can still call yourself a Marine? Might want to watch out, maybe they'll come to get their dog tags back."

With a fluid move Gibbs got out of his jacket and approached DiNozzo with a smile that would have had badass scumbag men running to their mommies. Tony's grin just widened and he dropped into a fighting stance, waiting for the attack.

Their fight was longer and harsher than Gibbs had intended. DiNozzo apparently was far from tired and blocked every move of his boss's with ease. He didn't attack himself though, apart from the taunting that was, only deflected, which Gibbs found an interesting but incredibly sad irony, considering how similar it was to Tony's whole life. He almost wished he would fight back, even though DiNozzo didn't pull his punches in his defence and soon, Gibbs' body ached and his strength was depleting fast. So he decided to put an end to it, before DiNozzo really won their little fight. He'd never hear the end of it. And all chance of getting the younger man to come home with him would be shot to hell. So he feinted an attack to the right that had Tony expecting him to go for his neck. Instead, he changed direction in the last moment, simply tackling him in a good ol' football tackle. Sometime later, DiNozzo would appreciate the poesy in that, he was sure. Not today though. As they both went down, Tony underneath, his agent immediately tried to throw him off. But once a Marine had you on the floor, the fight was over, as Tony was soon finding out. Still, he took way too long to give up, so long, that Gibbs moved one of his hands to the back of Tony's head. His SFA stilled immediately, the familiar move for a headslap finally reminding him where he was and who he was fighting, settle him down.

But Gibbs didn't slap him. Instead he cradled his head in his hand and leaned down so he could look straight into the so expressive green eyes. "I'm not going to fight you. I'm not going to hurt you. And I sure as hell am not going to walk away while I know damn well that you're in a world of pain and guilt, as unplaced as it is. Got it?"

As expected, showing him kindness, understanding and care was the one thing that broke straight through Tony's many defences, hitting him more effectively than even the strongest punch Gibbs could throw. All fight left his SFA and he stared up at him with wide eyes, for once completely naked, and the anguish and despair in them broke Gibbs' heart. He caressed the back of Tony's neck instinctively. It made Tony close his eyes, still, the flash of pain and anguish he caught in them sucker punched Gibbs straight and thoroughly. Tony tried to turn his head away, but Gibbs wouldn't let him. "Got it, Tony?" he repeated, softly.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Tony nodded. "Gotcha, Boss."

It was hoarse and barely above a whisper. It was enough for Gibbs. He got off his SFA and helped him back to his feet, careful to keep his hands always in touch with Tony. "Okay. Let's go home now."

TBC!

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_Author's Note: You guys ... I'm speechless. Never in a million years would I have expected to see such rewarding and so many wonderful reviews for that first, short chapter! You guys rock. And because you've been so wonderful to me, here the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I had writing it. Gibbs and Tony go at each other - what's not to love? Next we have some serious talk between those two stubborn men. So stay tuned, chapter 3 of six will come soon!_


	3. Issues

Chapter 3 - Issues

Pulling into his driveway, Gibbs turned off the motor and waited for his SFA to get out, intent on not leaving the car before him. He didn't trust him not to bolt, no matter how downcast he seemed to be. Not much to his surprise, the boy didn't move, staring blindly ahead. "Tony," he called his name softly.

Tony kept his head turned away. "Why are you doing this?"

"'Cause something's been eating at you for some time now and it needs to stop," Gibbs answered evenly. And continued straight on, knowing how wrongly Tony would take his words, standing alone like that. "Because it's what partners do. They have your six, even if your partner's too stubborn to admit he needs anyone. Inside, now." This time he got out, moving towards his front door, not waiting on his SFA. Sometimes it worked better with Tony if he just acted like always.

To his relief, the sound of a car door opening and closing followed him up the steps and by the time he opened his door, he felt the familiar and always reassuring presence of his SFA behind him. He led the way into the living room, where he nodded to the couch, before continuing on to the kitchen. Having anticipated the need to have to have a heart to heart with his agent soon, he had prepared. The steaks were already marinated, so it was just a matter of getting the fire going and putting them on the griddle, and the beer was cold and ready. When he returned to the living room, Tony was just standing up, having started the fire in the fireplace. Gibbs was pleased to see the fire and that Tony was familiar enough with him and the house to not think twice about starting it without asking. This routine and familiarity had taken years to come by, taking a few hits on the way, like after Mexico and LA.

The thought made him frown. Those two incidents had caused much more than just ripples between him and his SFA; in all honesty, they had affected the entire team. Actually, he was pretty sure Kate's sister had had mentioned those things in her report. He hadn't read it, Vance hadn't offered and he hadn't pushed it. He didn't really care what a shrink had to say about his team, even if the shrink had been Kate's sister. It was his team, handpicked by him and he knew it inside out. He hadn't needed a shrink to know that the entire team was slightly off, nor did he need a shrink or Vance or anyone to tell him what to do about it. All he needed was this young man right in front of him, an excellent investigator, the best agent he had ever worked with and the most honourable man he had ever known.

Of course, bar a few exceptions that sadly didn't include said young man himself, he was pretty much alone in his opinion of one Anthony DiNozzo Jr.

He had wanted to talk over the problems within the team with Tony for a while now. Tony had handpicked the junior agents right along with him. Well, with Ziva it had been a bit different, but what Tony did after the Rivkin mess in order to first keep her on the team and all his actions in and after Somalia to ensure to get her back on the team was as close to it as actually ordering her to the Navy Yard and handing her an application form, sending her off to personel to apply like he had done with DiNozzo. Plus, he had been their SFA for as long as he had been their team leader and had even been their boss for several months. Besides, he knew Tim and Ziva personally far better than Gibbs did, having spent a great deal more time with them, and over the years had also listened patiently and with honest interest to all their little worries, joys and hopes. McGee and David maybe had trouble remembering who had been through everything with them lately, but not so Gibbs. Plus, he knew his SFA better than anyone, his needs, his fears and his dreams and expectations. And therefore he knew that showing Tony his trust in him by seeking advice about the team from him would go a long way in easing at least some of the issues and demons that haunted his SFA.

Handing him one of the beers, he settled comfortably down on his couch. They should have just enough time to address the damaged team dynamics before dinner was ready. Later, only after a nice dinner, Gibbs would plunge into the much harder task of straightening his SFA out; something that would help the team a great deal too in the big picture, because even if none of them would ever admit it - or in some cases actually even be aware of - Tony was the heart and centre of the team, and as long as he was off, the team was off as well. Gibbs had painfully learned that whenever Tony had been away or dealing with stuff that had distracted him enough that he couldn't put in as much attention to the team as usual.

"Team's off," he came straight to the point.

Tony gave him an incredulous look before he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "I know."

"What's wrong?" Gibbs asked gruffly.

"A number of things," Tony answered with a shrug and a deep sigh.

Gibbs frowned. "Like?"

Atypically, Tony didn't give an immediate answer, despite certainly knowing better. He was about to remind his SFA of that when he opened his eyes to give him a weighing, questioning frown. "There have been some problems for a while. Why now?"

He knew he had to be careful with his answer, not that Tony would start believe he was only seeking his advice out of some sort of pity. "I figured it'd solve itself eventually. But now it's apparently gotten that bad that they're sicking shrinks on us. I won't have that. We need to fix it, now."

The frown deepened. "Rachel came and went a while ago. Why wait until now?"

"Because 'til now, it hadn't affected work. Now though we've messed up, all of us, not just you," he stressed immediately, giving Tony a stern look. "Blame's really on me. Shouldn't have waited so long to straighten the team out." Tony looked away at that and his gut twisted slightly. He narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Nothing," DiNozzo said quickly. Too quickly. And then went straight to deflection. "So you got any ideas? Please don't say a team building camping trip or something horribly corny like that."

Gibbs just stared at him.

Reluctantly, Tony met his eyes again, obviously contrite. "Not your fault, Boss. There've been some other incidents in the past. I dealt with them, thought that'd be enough, didn't see the need to trouble you with it, let alone go the official way."

Staying silent, Gibbs tried to think of an 'incident' that was bad enough that DiNozzo even contemplated if an official reprimand was warranted. He couldn't think of anything but he was sure it had to be something he definitely should have been told about. It wasn't that he didn't trust that Tony had indeed dealt with it, whatever it was, but it was still his team.

Of course, DiNozzo didn't take his silence the good way. His face fell, his eyes drooped. "I'm sorry. Should have told you. Maybe then we could have avoided this mess."

Gibbs' first instinct was to reassure the idiot that it hadn't been his fault. Again. But he knew him well enough to not judge him before he knew the facts. So he waited for Tony to explain. That Tony again avoided his eyes didn't sit right with his gut at all. Damn. He wasn't going to like this.

Sighing very deeply and still not looking at him, Tony finally came clean. "Some months back, during the case with the radio DJ and the domestic terrorism, McGee and Ziva turned the radio off while I talked to the residents of Royal Woods."

It took Gibbs a moment to comprehend what Tony was saying. He blamed being so slow on the shock. To be fair, he didn't think it was possible to be so wrong about people, let alone his own agents, to not see how devious they could be. He didn't think he had ever been flabbergasted in his life - now he was. "They left you without backup?" His voice was lowering with each word and he flexed his hands in white hot fury.

Tony glanced at him, took in his state. "Yeah. I know," he answered quietly. Watching him for a moment longer. "They said they were tired of listening to me. Look, I think they only turned it off when they saw me heading back to the car, trying a jab at me ..."

"But you're not sure for how long they - did that," Gibbs seethed, not able to bring himself to say it out loud, his hands definitely fisting now.

"No," Tony admitted. "But they _do_ know better than that so I really believe it was just an attempt at a very bad and not at all funny joke. Nevertheless, I dealt with it. No need to go ballistic on them, okay?"

So typical. DiNozzo taking one for the team but still standing in front of it, protecting his team-mates. Always having their six. Damn it. Had those idiots learned nothing from him? He itched to storm out, round them up in the gym and give them a real lesson. And then he'd see if he felt like demanding their badges. Fuck, what had DiNozzo been thinking, not reporting such a serious breach of protocol, let alone trust?

"They didn't do it out of malice, Gibbs. You and I know that Tim and Ziva would lay down their lives for us or any stranger in a second, without thinking, without a blink. If I had _any_ doubt about that, we'd be working with two new agents and team members now," Tony told him softly, having read his mind easily, like he did so often. "That's why I didn't come to you or make a report. They made a horrible joke. It was a mistake, but not one they deserved to lose their jobs and careers over." He gave him a poignant look. "Or any body parts." Then he looked at the fire, changing tunes so fast, one could almost hear the screeching of his mind turn. "Fire's ready. Those steaks aren't going to grill themselves, you know."

Gibbs ignored him, still too furious and hurt by his agents' betrayal to be in the mood for anything else than beating the shit out of them, Tony included for keeping such a thing from him - and dealing with it on his own. But some part of him was still thinking straight and telling him it was wiser not to tear into his SFA right then and there. To prove to him that he did trust him with his team and his judgement and leadership qualities. "How?"

Tony frowned as he tried to follow his train of thoughts. Didn't take him long. "How did I deal with them?" A very sly and insidious grin lit up his face. "Oh trust me, they learned their lesson. As soon as the case was over, I gave them the dressing down of the century. Then I beat the crap out of them in the gym, for once not holding back much. Let's say they were mighty surprised and unprepared. And _then_ I forced them to a movie marathon weekend of every Police Academy movie ever made. You probably don't know them; they're terrible, so terrible, they're barely watchable. The category 'so bad you can only laugh or cry about it'. Having them listen to me reenacting and commenting pretty much on every scene was a beautiful payback, I think, judging from the crazy-dazed look on their faces when they staggered home. Oh, and of course, for a month I let them deal with you without interference from my part to remind them how their life would be without me around. Even took that little vacation, remember? Gotta say, Boss, you did a wonderful job of being ..." There he caught himself, quickly switching to a wide, sunny smile. "You. You were just yourself, friendly and considerate like always, a real nice and polite guy. No other ..."

Gibbs stopped his rambling as usual. A nice, firm headslap.

"Thanks, Boss," DiNozzo said, rubbing his head for show.

Turning, Gibbs went into the kitchen to get the steaks. While he put them on the griddle over the fire, he thought back to the weeks after the case. It was true, DiNozzo had taken a week of vacation, leaving him alone with the kids. They've all been relieved and looking forward to his return at the end of that week. And he could also remember now that he did indeed have to deal more with them directly while Tony kept in the background. Then again, it had also been around the time his father had shown up again, and Tony, like the year before, had been pretty occupied with stressing himself out over it.

He had to agree, Tony had indeed dealt with the junior agents. Effectively. And because he trusted him, he wouldn't go and give them a lesson of his own. Still, he couldn't let it slide entirely. At least he needed to let them know that they could thank Tony for still having a job.

TBC!

* * *

_Author's Note: You guys are crazy! Absolutely crazy. Not that I'm complaining. Far from it. Actually, I absolutely love it! I hoped you'd like the confrontation between our two favorite stubborn idiots, but boy, your reviews were overwhelming! _Thank you! _So again, I won't be cruel and give you the next chapter already. Hope you liked it as much as the last one. Next, we're going even deeper, approaching what's broken within the team, so stay tuned for 4 of six! _


	4. Head to head

Chapter 4 - Head to head

Once the steaks were sizzling over the fire, Gibbs turned back around. "If it wasn't malice, then what was it?"

Tony eyed him carefully. Once he was sure they were back to discussing the disturbed team dynamics and not on the edge of losing two teammates, he sighed. "I think it's the seven year itch. Well, for Ziva it's the six year itch and for McGee eight years, but that's semantics. We've been a team for a long time, been through a lot, some of it we never really properly dealt with or talked about. But the true problem is that we're overworked. You know I don't mind the long hours, none of us do, and we all know that some cases take priority. But Boss, it's been crazy lately. We've had back to back cases for months now and not all of them have been so important that another team couldn't have worked them. We need more personal time that gives us the chance to be apart from each other and wind down, relax. Replenish the energy."

Gibbs contemplated that. He couldn't deny the truth in Tony's words. It took a lot to tire him out but even he felt some level of exhaustion lately. Of course, he could demand some time off - but that would only bring a temporary relief. Once the leave was over, they'd be back to the tight schedule. "Any suggestions?"

"Actually yeah," Tony surprised him, looking at him seriously. "Go to Vance and demand that he assigns another team to the Washington office. It's not just our team that's stressed out. They're all complaining. With another team in the rotation though, things should calm down and return to normal. I think now's the perfect time to ask. Vance has Rachel's report that I'm sure warns that we work too many hours. With the domestic terrorism case we got more funding. And he'll listen to you. Or you can get the other team leaders to back you up with the demand, I bet they'd all be for it as well."

Gibbs didn't need to think long about that. "I'll talk to Vance." Alone. His fellow team leaders could speak for themselves. "But that will only solve so much."

At that, Tony shrugged. "Wouldn't be so sure about that. Add time to it and I think, pretty soon, we'll be back to our glorious selves."

"No," Gibbs shook his head. "No more. I want it all resolved, now. This has been building up for a long time. More downtime won't mend what's been broken."

"Not sure there is something we can _do_, Boss," Tony cautioned. "Unless we can find a time machine and go back, but the likelihood of that happening is pretty much zilch."

Gibbs didn't want to hear that. But as he had no other suggestion for the moment, he focused on the why. Maybe that would give them an idea for the what. "What would you change?" He hesitated. "My retirement?"

He knew he'd messed up big time back then. First by leaving in a fit, then by not staying in contact with his team, and again with the way he'd come back. The team had had to suffer a great deal because of his actions and none more than the young man currently sitting on his couch. He wasn't sure he'd ever forgive himself for that.

But Tony only raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Boss, no. That's long past. We're so over that, have been for years. Wasn't that much of a deal in the first place."

'_Perhaps not for the team, but definitely for you,_' Gibbs thought. He said nothing, though. They were talking about the team now, not Tony. Not yet. "Until?" he asked instead.

A shadow flew over Tony's face. "Until Vance came and shattered our team," he said flatly, with heat simmering unmistakable beneath. "Then again, if I hadn't let Jenny die he wouldn't have been nominated new director so really, I'm the one to blame."

Gibbs blew out his breath, exasperated. "We've been over this: Jenny's death wasn't your fault. She ordered you away, she failed to get backup and she was going to die soon. She wanted to go on her terms. Vance would have succeeded her sooner or later anyway."

But the stubborn, self-recriminating idiot shook his head tightly. "We don't know that. Maybe, a few months later, it would have been someone else. Or we'd already have identified Lee as a traitor, giving Vance no reason to tear us apart. Or if it _had_ had the same outcome, at least Ziva may not have met and fallen in love with Rivkin."

"Or, everything could have happened exactly the same way it did happen," Gibbs interrupted him, sternly.

Tony just shrugged. "Doesn't matter either way. Fact is, everything started going down after that. Most of the problems we've got today originated from those four months. If not for the team dissolving, Ziva wouldn't have been sent to Israel to work with Rivkin. They wouldn't have fallen in love, the bastard wouldn't have been given the chance to use and betray her, I wouldn't have had to kill him and lose her trust as a consequence. We wouldn't have been forced to leave her back in Israel and the whole Somalia mess wouldn't have happened, bringing back an unsure and even more closed off and not to mention terribly hurt Ziva than she was when she started working with us. Not to mention this sudden unrealistic longing she has for anything normal. McGee wouldn't have spent months down in the basement with the geeks, being spoilt by them calling him boss and cowering in fear of him, and Vance promoting him to be his prized pet agent, which made him grow an ego even Napoleon would have been proud of and pretty much think he was infallible... and I wouldn't have had such a hard time getting him to listen to me any more! Same goes for Ziva, for that matter. Nor would there be a constant war between you and Vance, one minute best buddies, the next at each other's throats. And you wouldn't have started to have so many secrets from us. From _me_. I get it, you were practically on your own again, with no one to trust and have your six. Still, once we were all back, you should have known better."

That DiNozzo had been looking at him the whole time, calmly, and didn't try to soften his words or back down from them, told him how deadly serious his Senior Field Agent was. He knew exactly what DiNozzo was talking about. Domino and the mess with the Reynosas were only the iceberg, but good examples. He wasn't sure he was sorry about it though. He'd done it the only way he knew in order to protect those close to him - including Tony. Maybe especially Tony. Sure, the boy had been hurt anyway, but only his feelings. While he was sorry for that, that he physically stayed intact was more important. Lee had had already killed one agent and there was no thinking of what the Reynosas had been capable of. No, he wasn't sorry about that. "Not a matter of trust, Tony."

"Sure feels like it," Tony simply countered. "You know, I've been looking after myself for a long time before and after we met. Both on the field and in the field. Hell, actually I was on my own pretty much since day one. While I'm glad to have sort of a family with you guys now - I'm still a cop and a seasoned agent foremost, trained by _you_. I don't need you to protect me from any possibility of harm – I need you to trust me to do my job, let me be your partner and have your six."

How was it possible to be both incredibly proud and absolutely frustrated at the same time? Gibbs didn't know it but since he had met the lad in Baltimore, being run down by him, he found himself in the same predicament time and time again. This time, he refused to ignore it, his usual way of dealing. Maybe, if he'd said what he thought more often, the team wouldn't be in this state now. "I know that. You're my partner. You've been longer with me than anyone. Including Franks and Shannon." True, he had known Shannon longer than ten years, but with all the time he had been away ... And Kelly had been ripped away from him when she was nine, but Tony knew that, so no need to mention her too. Thinking about his girls hurt, so he hurried on. "That's why I can't let you take unnecessary risks. We've got enough of that on the job. If something happened to you and it was my fault - I won't have it. I've lost too much already." His mouth was dry. Talking wasn't his thing, never had been, but he had forgotten how damn hard it was to find the right words to say - and the courage to actually admit them. "Remember the Reynosas had taken my family from me once already. I wasn't going to let them do it again. I'm not losing you too."

Tony stared at him, stunned. Good. Maybe the kid would finally start to understand now. Deciding to leave it at that, he turned to the fire, checking the steaks. Just about ready. Leaving Tony on the couch to contemplate his words, he moved to the kitchen, served the potato salad he'd whipped up earlier onto the plates and went back into the living room. As he got the steaks from the griddle he contemplated his team's situation. They had a solution for the chronic overtime, and listening to Tony's analysis of what had gone wrong ever since Vance tore apart his team had given him a good enough idea where to start in order to straighten out his agents. It may not be the solution for all their problems, but it was a start.

Tony took the plate he offered him still looking dazed. With a grin, Gibbs settled on the couch to dig in. He wasn't finished with his senior field agent yet, but he thought he'd got a good foot in.

TBC!

* * *

_Author's Note: You continue to amaze me with all these wonderful reviews! Very happy to see you liked Tony's lesson for his junior agents. While I never thought it is that much of a deal because honestly, I didn't even notice it until the site here started to fill with stories centered around that moment, I did miss seeing Tony doing something about it. And, as you saw in this chapter, that it is a sign of our beloved team having some serious issues to deal with. Team talk is done now though. Next chapter is all about Tony. So stay tuned, 5 of 6 will come soon!_


	5. Crumbling

Chapter 5 - Crumbling

After the delicious steaks had been devoured hungrily by the two men, Gibbs left Tony to do the dishes while he moved to the basement, to start work on his boat. It was their routine and he thought the familiarity of it would help sooth Tony. Before he'd left, he'd insisted on him taking some Advil against the headache though. It would take the edge off the pain but still leave Tony lucid. He wanted him aware of every word that was going to be said between them.

Tony took his time with the dishes though. Actually, when after half an hour he still hadn't shown up on the steps, Gibbs feared for a moment that Tony had used the opportunity to bolt. Already scowling, he threw the saw on the table and was about to head upwards when the kid appeared in the doorway and came down the steps slowly. At the foot of them he sat down, resting his elbows on his knees. "I figured it would only get worse if I made a run for it now."

"Ya think," Gibbs replied sarcastically, relaxing. Picking up the saw again, he turned back to measure and cut the wood. He loved this part, not having anything yet but the plans, starting to build what would eventually turn into a beautiful sailing boat – his biggest and best so far.

"So you started a new boat? Good for you. Is it for Mike again? To replace Kelly?" There was the slightest hesitation as Tony spoke the name. Gibbs appreciated it, however unnecessary it was.

"No," he answered, smiling.

"For Leyla and Amira then?"

"Nope."

Tony fidgeted and Gibbs bit back a chuckle. The kid was too curious for his own good.

"Abby?" This time Gibbs just shook his head. "Ducky?" Another head shake. "Yourself?" Gibbs gave him a look. "I guess not. Tim or Ziva?" Now Gibbs frowned. He knew the kid could be blind sometimes when it was about anyone caring about him, but could he truly be so clueless? "Okay, I give up. Who's the boat for?"

Apparently he was. Sighing, he looked him straight in the eyes. He had planned it as a surprise but obviously, this couldn't wait the long time until the boat was finished. "It's for you."

Tony's eyes went big as his face lost all colour. "Me?" he whispered, unbelieving.

It didn't sit well with Gibbs. "Who else?" he asked softly.

"But ... _Why_?"

To hear the question asked in such a lost and uncomprehending way, made Gibbs furious while it tore at his heart. "Figured it was about time you got your own boat."

This time, Tony couldn't bring out even one word. Considering how hard it was to shut his Senior Field Agent up, he should have been proud. Instead, he hated it. Such a gesture of kindness towards him shouldn't render DiNozzo speechless. Not after all these years, not when it was coming from him. Damn. He really should have done this a long time ago. Both; give him one of the boats and talk to him.

"I don't know what to say," Tony finally said slowly. "But Boss, you shouldn't spend so much time and work on me. And all that money this is going to cost you... I'm sure someone else ..." He was stopped by Gibbs grabbing the nearest glass of nails and throwing it across the basement; it shattered against the wall and a myriad of broken pieces and nails littered the floor.

"I swear, if you say you don't deserve this, I'm going to headslap you so hard you won't remember even one damn movie ever again," Gibbs seethed.

Eyeing him warily, Tony still had the audacity to shrug. "I don't."

Gibbs' hand fisted, but he held himself back. For now. "Tell me one reason you don't."

"How about that I'm jealous of a confused, devastated kid because his drunk father loved him enough that he even committed murder for him in order to protect him? He got it all wrong, I know, and he was a bastard to the kid. Still, he cared for him, did what he could for him," Tony exploded quietly, anguish all over his face, and pain and hate shining out of his misty green eyes. "Or how about I envy that little boy for having a mom that found the courage to leave her violent asshole of a husband the second he raised a hand against her boy?" He shook, glaring at him. "You know what mine did when Dad first backhanded me? She looked at me all disappointed, sighed 'Oh, Anthony,' and turned her back on me, drinking her gin martini while she listened to him taking off his belt and proceeding to discipline me for having spilled my milk. I was four and had a cold, coughing like hell, but that was no excuse. My own damn fault for getting sick in the first place, for playing outside and sleeping with the windows open during the winter."

Gibbs had a hard time not reacting in any way to what Tony had blurted out. Not yet. It was hard to have the kid open up as it was; over the years he had learnt that once the floodgates finally opened, you had to be silent and do nothing if you wanted him to continue until it was all out in the open. The moment you opened your mouth, or God forbid, tried to comfort him, the gates would slam down again with a bang and you'd only see the back of the kid for weeks, always running and avoiding any contact. Didn't make it any easier though to say nothing to the anguished boy, putting himself through so much unnecessary pain. How a trained investigator, and such a good one as Tony was on top of it, could get it so wrong was beyond him.

"I bet Paul Simmons never wished his mother dead or is in any remote way actually glad that she's gone," Tony raged on. "That's right. You wanted the ugly truth? Here it is: I _wished_ my mom gone, and once she was dead, I wasn't even sorry for that. She was worse than him! Dad, him I could deal with. Don't ask stupid questions, don't bother him, be nice and polite, call him Sir, do as he told me and I was usually home safe. And if he still had a reason to discipline me, don't cry, don't pass out, take it like a man and it was over soon. Besides, he was mostly away anyway. But _her_ ... With all the pills and the alcohol and the mood swings, you never knew what was heading your way. I mess up my piano notes and one day she'd hug and kiss me, tell me not to worry about it, next day she takes out the stick to beat me with it, all the time crying why can't I just get it right. Or one night she comes to sleep in my bed because she misses him so much, then suddenly she locks me out of the house for days because I remind her so strongly of him she can't bear to look at me. And she gets worse and worse with each passing year, which in turn makes him stay away even more, because he can't bear seeing her like this and besides, who'd want to deal with a crazy wife and the good for nothing son who in his eyes was responsible for her losing it in the first place? She was fine before having me, you know, at least that's what they all told me. But then she started to take sleeping pills, because my crying kept her awake during the night. And Dad wasn't sleeping with her anymore, so next came the alcohol. Then she had to take them both so she could deal with me. So really, even if I hadn't wished her away with all my prayers and wishes, I still killed her in the end."

Tony's voice broke and he angrily wiped at his eyes, but there were no tears. "That's who I really am, a kid who hated his mother so much he wished her dead and a man who is jealous of two innocent boys who have a crap life but still have it better than I ever got. You still think I deserve anything remotely nice, let alone something as amazing as a boat?"

Carefully, Gibbs put away the saw and the piece of wood he'd been working on. He'd abandoned his handiwork at Tony's first words, his mind filling with the gruesome pictures and scenes Tony described, his heart immediately rejecting them: they had to be images from a nightmare because no man or woman could be so cruel to their own kid, could they? But his gut knew the truth and his heart was finally shattered as he accepted that this was his boy's childhood. He had had no idea that Tony's mother had been so bad. Ten years, and not once had the boy admitted to anything else than that she had been an alcoholic, taking pills as well. He'd always thought that she had been the good parent, that she at least had shown her little boy what parental love really was supposed to be like. They'd always assumed the reason Tony spoke even less about his mother than his father was because she had died when he was so young and her death still hurt too much for him to want to talk about her.

Stupid. Rule number 8: Never assume.

When was Gibbs going to learn to follow his own rules?

To know now that Tony's mother had been even more abusive than her good for nothing husband was a shock he didn't know how to deal with. All he really knew was Tony needed him to do and say the right thing now or he'd probably run the risk that he'd lose the boy. Couldn't have that.

His mind raced with possibilities, rejecting most of them immediately. He also knew though that he had to find something to say soon, or his silence would have the same effect as saying the wrong thing. Any sign of pity or the almost physical hurt he felt for Tony was out of the question. Letting his outrage and fury roam free wouldn't do it either. So what?

Crossing his arms in front of his chest, to keep himself from either pummelling the wall or trying to caress Tony's face and hair, and to keep his loudly beating heart from jumping into his throat, Gibbs met Tony's tormented eyes straight on and with a calm he didn't even remotely feel, he said, "I think don't ask don't tell has to be the stupidest thing humanity ever came up with."

TBC!

* * *

_Author's Note: So happy you liked that last chapter so much! You guys are simply the most wonderful! Thank you so much! As promised, here now the chapter where it's Tony through and through. Hope you liked it! I know it's probably not what most of you thought it would be. But I think this is one possible explanation that could explain some contradictions in the show - and the utter lack of Tony talking about his mom. There is still one more chapter to go, so stay tuned it, it will come soon. _


	6. Heart to heart

Chapter 6 - Heart to heart

Tony blinked, momentarily lost in a stupor. There he had bared his _everything_ to Gibbs; his darkest mother of all secrets, and the man's only answer to it was philosophy?

He didn't think so... if he knew Gibbs, the marine would find some way to turn things to make perfect sense if this was his answer. He was pretty sure he wouldn't like to hear any of that sense, though. No matter how Gibbs twisted it, this was not something he could turn into anything good or justifiable. Still, he couldn't help himself. "Huh?"

"Don't ask, don't tell is pretty much the worst thing you can do. It doesn't concern just gay people in the military. In which part of life is it the right thing to do to not ask? Not tell?" Gibbs asked, his eyes intent on Tony.

He had the feeling he was supposed to be able to find some connection between this rule and what he'd just told Gibbs, but he just couldn't see it. Unless ... "You think I didn't try to tell?" he blurted out, hurt and incredulous. "I did. Three times I tried to tell how things were at home. It was no use. We had a private physician, who'd confirm that I was just trying to get attention and imagining things. Or, considering my mom's mental health problems, I had just inherited them from her. People were bought, blackmailed or discredited. Ask and tell is a nice concept, but utterly utopian."

"Maybe. Can't hurt to try though. All I know is that many crimes could be prevented if witnesses who suspected something'd act instead of ignoring things, and if victims _would_ speak up - and be listened to." Gibbs moved to crouch in front of Tony. "If Simmons had just asked his son if he had a relationship with Carr, the boy wouldn't have lost his only friend and confidant, not to mention now his only remaining parent's in jail. If Georgia had left her husband right after the first time he raised his hand against her, she'd never have feared for her son and Len wouldn't have had to kill to protect her. If I'd taken the time to talk with all of you, the team wouldn't be in the bad place it is right now." His eyes gentled and slowly, Gibbs stretched out his hand to place it on the back of Tony's neck. He tensed but allowed the contact. "If just one person not easily intimidated had listened to you, or asked the right questions, you could have been spared a lot of pain. And if I had ever bothered to ask you about your childhood, I could have avoided some things I put you through. Not to mention that I probably would have killed that good-for-nothing sperm donor that claims to be your father."

Whoa!

While the sentiment didn't surprise Tony much, the suddenness of it was - sudden. It was one of the reasons he had always avoided revealing too much of his childhood, even before his father had showed up unexpectedly last year. It would have been easy for Gibbs to find and execute Daddy dearest. He had already one parent's death on his conscience, he didn't need to be responsible for the other! No matter how much some days, he was all for it. Most of the time though, he was glad that there was still the chance of at least some reconciliation with his father. He didn't need it as badly as he once did and the gruff, deadly man in front of him was the main reason for that. Still, no matter how much he wished things to be different, he could neither change his past nor his DNA. And even Gibbs, for all the miracles he could make happen, was powerless in that regard. He had already soothed a lot of his scars as it was. So he shook his head. "No."

"Why not?" Gibbs asked.

"Because it doesn't matter." Seeing the flash of anger, he hurriedly continued. "Not any more. And I don't want to be responsible for his death too."

"No way are you responsible for your mother's death," Gibbs lost no time in insisting.

Tony sighed. He knew that. Theoretically. In his heart, no matter what everyone told him, he would always feel some guilt over it. And no one could tell him that it wasn't sick to wish death on his own mother. It wasn't important what she did or didn't do. A good son, even an eight year old boy, did not contemplate his mother's demise.

"Hey! You hearing me?"

Snapping his eyes back to his boss, seeing the steely, furious, glare, he shrugged. "Can't change how I feel, Boss."

Gibbs didn't look as if he appreciated his answer. Didn't think so. "Well then it has to be enough that _I _know there's _nothing_ you have to feel guilty for. Or sorry for. What your parents did to you was _not_ your fault. Never. Tony, the cop in you knows that. Heard you telling the exact same thing to enough kids – and adults. And if it helps, if your mother wasn't dead already, I sure as hell would want to kill her even more badly than your father."

At that Tony had to smile. It was a bitter, humourless, sad smile, but a smile nonetheless.

Gibbs nodded back to his workbench. "Boat's still yours. That is, if you want it."

Did he want it? "Hell yeah." Not that sailing was really his thing. Nor was it not his thing. Just hadn't been on his radar much so far. That could change easily. If it meant Gibbs was willing to dedicate all this work and time and money into something for him, pouring his heart into every stroke of the sander he made, then that would be the most precious thing anyone ever did for him. Hell yeah he wanted it, regardless of him deserving it or not.

"Good." Gibbs got up, stretched. "Won't do it alone though. I expect you to be here regularly to help. And you pick out everything."

"Whatever you pick is fine," he replied quickly. Gibbs glared at him. "Or not. I'll pick out the - stuff. That'll be fun! We can go through the stores, look at things, compare them, argue over them ..." Another glare. "Or I'll go get the things by myself, bring them home ..." He stopped, realizing what he had said. Feeling his cheeks redden, he looked down at his feet.

God, why couldn't he just stop his stupid mouth? First he blurted out the one secret he had guarded closely, having no intention to ever tell anyone what his true feelings regarding his mom were and now there he went and spilled one of his deepest longings out into the open. It was a guilty pleasure he had indulged in for a few years now, ever since Gibbs had started taking him home whenever he needed someone watching him for a while. Especially after his prolonged stay in this house after his bout with the plague he had started to think of Gibbs' house as home. Not the home you went home to every night but the childhood home happy people with happy childhoods had. The home you knew was always there, ready to take you back in, where you were always welcomed, wanted. Where there was always a bed or even a room ready for you, without there ever be the need of asking. The one that was full of precious memories and bore the marks of the people that were privileged to call it home.

It was the only such home he knew, despite it not being real, only borrowed and that without invitation. He had been careful to never mention these thoughts to Gibbs, not wanting the illusion to shatter. After all, why should Gibbs want to share the home he had once build for his wife and little girl and open it to someone who was just work related to him? But with all the revelations so far and the surprise of the boat, coupled with the damn alcohol and painkillers it had just come out. Damn it!

His head was brought up by a firm slap to the back of it. "Hell, DiNozzo, you listened to one word I said? Door's always open. House will be yours one day anyway. Better get used to calling it home."

He'd never been one to gape but hell if his disbelieving look and open mouth wasn't just that. _His house?_

"What'd you think? That I'd give the house to McGee or some other agent? House goes to family," Gibbs said nonchalantly, turning back towards the workbench. "Come here, I'll show you the plans and what we've got to do first."

Still not able to find any words, Tony rose slowly to join his boss at the workbench, his body automatically following the order while his mind was busy freaking out.

_Family_.

Gibbs really thought of him as family? It seemed impossible. No one had ever wanted him. Hell, he had been disowned with twelve! But his boss never said anything he didn't mean. Never.

The plans laid out on it told him little or nothing. Or maybe, that was just his head still trying to stop reeling. This morning he had been in a world of pain and self-disgust, loathing himself and pretty much everything around him, fed-up with victims, perps and his team likewise. Now he stood in the basement of a house that he no longer had to think of as home secretively, was going to be _his_ even, looking at plans that were going to be his boat one day, his stomach full of home cooked steak and looking forward to the next day of work. And with his conscience a tad lighter than it had been a few hours ago.

All thanks to the man beside him. His boss, his partner, his friend and by heart his father. Who _wanted_ him. Trusted him. Thought he was worth fighting for. Who made him want to never give up. Compelled him to stay around, just to be close to the man.

And maybe even could help him to finally leave the past behind him and try to be happy, looking forward to the future.

He didn't delude himself that it was going to be easy. It never was that easy. There were still issues. With Vance, with the team, with his father, with his past, even with Gibbs himself, if he wanted to be honest. But for the first time in a long time, hell, maybe for the first time ever, he was confident that eventually, everything could actually work out in the end. That this was a start into a better and more happier time for him.

Taking a deep breath, he swallowed. And casually shifted his weight so his body touched Gibbs' lightly here and there. Gibbs didn't move, didn't even seem to notice the contact. But if the pills and booze didn't get the better of him, there was just the slightest smile ghosting over the boss' face and he too shifted oh so casually, closing even more gaps between their bodies.

Not able to stop the smile any longer, he blinked, focusing on the plans laid out in front of him.

Yeah. It was a start. A damn good start.

The End

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_Author's Note: Sorry for the slight delay! When reading through it in order to post the last chapter I saw some things I wanted to add. Plus RL getting into the way and already it's two days later. But here it is now, the final chapter and I really, really hope you liked the conclusion as much as you seemed to have loved the chapters so far. I know there are some things still open. But for this story, all that needed to be said, was said. Before you tar and feather me for not showing how Gibbs talks with McGee and Ziva or how Gibbs and Tony deal with everything that has been said - there most likely will be a sequel. Now, I won't make any promises here. But know that after having some half cooked ideas for a continuation here and there, I recently watched the rest of season 8 (sigh what wonderful Tony-episodes we got there ...) and had kind of a giant bunny hoping out at me that could work that all in and connect what we've see in canon to this story here. And it's nagging at me constantly so the chances are big that I'll succumb to it and write it. Still, first I have to finish Stepping In and there are other bunnies that are also pretty insistent. So no promises. _

_Now, before I come to the final end, once again thank you all so very much for the many, many wonderful and breathtaking reviews! I truly didn't expect quite such a positive and big resonance to this little fic. Not that I'm complaining. Never! But really, thank you! _

_The biggest thanks goes to my beta though. Not only did she straighten out my sometimes a bit scrambled English, but she had many helpful suggestions and still takes the time to also review every chapter, which isn't necessarily a given. So thank you, __scousemuz1k!_

_Okay, that's it. Again, thank you all - and if you liked it, watch out for updates on my other stories or that sequel that may come up one of these days. _

_Mooncat_


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